End of the Story
by HopelessLoves
Summary: A close look at Gwen on a very hard day...


_**I don't own Merlin or any of its characters...though I would dearly like to get to know them! This show and its characters belong to the BBC network, no stealing going on here! I write purely for enjoyment and expression. Hopefully it's not too atrocious**__**! This is just a peek in Gwen's life, her everyday chores and such. Though I don't know if we've ever seen Gwen so upset or so unlike her usual sweet self. Everybody has those days when they spend too much time alone and get to thinking...there's not much you can do in such situations but cry it out and wait for the storm to pass so the sun can shine again. Why should Gwen be any different? She's a person, and must still deal with the hardships of the past. IF you've got a moment, please comment! Now without further ado...  
**_

~ End of the Story~

Gwen angrily dunked her rag into the bucket of water and went back to scrubbing the floors with a passion. She could feel the tears streaming down her face in rivers; she could barely see the floor with the constant moisture that seemed to never cease. But no matter how much she scrubbed, the floor never seemed to get any cleaner. Anger and sorrow dripped from her face, mixing with the suds down below as she ground her knees into the harsh stone to get a better grip.

Her features determined although breaking at the same time, she winced and slammed her eyes shut. She hated how weak she was…she hated Uther, hated how he could get under her skin and tear her apart, yet she still served him. Cleaned his residence, cooked for him, took care of him! Gwen threw herself into the scrubbing; her fingers were screaming at her with pain but she didn't care.

She served the man who slaughtered her Father, for what? So he could bring more pain and suffering to the world with his psychopathic rule? So he could murder hundreds of innocent people to save his reputation? Gwen paused in her scrubbing; taking the breath she didn't know she needed.

Her curls were falling in an unruly manner down the side of her face, leaving her with a worn-out appearance. Which was the truth. She was exhausted. Tired of Uther, tired of working, tired of not being respected, tired of being invisible, she was tired. Gwen sat back on her ankles, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.

She looked up toward the golden light streaming in the window and felt a sickening movement in her stomach at the sight. Normally the vision in front of her would lift her spirits and place a smile on her face, no matter how harsh the day had been. But not today. Today was different. Two years ago today her Father had been criminally ripped away from her by Uther Pendragon. Now she was alone, with only shadows of memories to remind her of the kindest man she would ever know.

Gwen turned back toward her duties, grabbing the bucket and forcefully hurling the rest of the water onto the ground. Was Uther _so_ determined to snuff out every light in the world? Where would he stop? Why did she stay? By now the suds were slowly turning a vivid crimson and she could feel a stinging pain in her fingertips. She blew a strand of hair out of her face as she continued cleansing the stone and realized, too late; it was all in vain, for her blood was now infecting the water beneath her hands. Gwen dropped the rag in numb hopelessness. Still crying but not as passionately as before, she honestly wondered to herself, "Why do I stay?"

She was immediately struck with images of Gaius and Merlin. The faithful father-figure who comforted her and the witty, cheerful best friend of hers that never ceased to surprise her. The last face she saw caused her to let out a moan of empathy; so _this_ was the reason, or rather, _he _was the reason.

The fair-haired, crystal-eyed man smiled through her memory; she shut her eyes to see him better. It was a near perfect picture of the Knight she had so come to admire. He took the form of comfort in a memory of grief with Morgana's return, he was kindness and compassion to the villagers when they could not pay their taxes, he was strength and courage when the walls of Camelot were threatened by the wicked Cenred, and he was love to a woman who had lost everything but her friends.

Gwen let out a quiet sob as she remembered the tender touch of a man who was never supposed to be hers, but whom she could now never live without. Arthur Pendragon; the future King of Camelot, bravest of Knights and her one true love. It was him; she stayed for him. For the man he once would be, and since then was every day becoming more of, she stood by him. And with the ghost of a smile she realized she always would.

Gwen's features contorted and she leaned toward the ground, head tucked, eyes closed and arms stretched out to support her, she froze. Suddenly there were footsteps about, a man's footsteps. Gwen slowly drew back and clutched the bucket to her chest for support. Whoever this man was, she would not turn to look. If it was a noble she would be ignored, if it was a servant she would think of an excuse. But the footsteps slowed as they approached, and halted just behind her.

Gwen waited for a command, a reprimand, anything. But nothing came. Slightly curious, Gwen tilted her head to peer at the man's feet only to see a hand being extended to her. "If you scrub this spot any longer I'm afraid it'll outshine the rest of the room. " Gwen slowly grinned, finally grabbing the warm hand and allowing it to pull her to her feet.

A man with a golden crown of hair and piercing azure eyes appraised her face as she came into view, a look of compassion and a trace of a smile firmly set on his face. Gwen did her best to smile, but all that formed was a half-hearted attempt. She looked to his hands, which still held onto her own, and timidly peered into his eyes.

It seemed he could not resist reaching out to her, she was so broken. His thumb traced her cheek and he tenderly cupped her face. His fingers rubbed circles on her fingertips as the blood released in her angry scrubbing started flowing onto his. "You're bleeding," he said, looking to her hands. Gwen sniffed and swallowed her words, allowing his touch to calm her stress. "Mmm." Was all she could manage before her face contorted with pain once again. Arthur pulled her into his strong embrace, putting a hand on her head as she burrowed into his shoulder. She felt so small inside the circle of his support; small but protected.

Arthur took a slow breath and spoke quietly to her, "I remember this day. What you lost. What it means to you, what I allowed to happen…" Gwen gripped him tighter at these words. She began to rub his arm affectionately, letting him know she didn't blame him, and she knew he understood. He continued, "I will never leave you. As long as I draw breath you will be plagued with my presence." Gwen gently smiled into his arm. "_Guinevere... I love you._" His declaration was sweet and clear, as all of his words had become as of late. The closer they became she found he expressed his love for her with little to no difficulty, which was most unlike him. But she was so extremely thankful for these words, for him.

Gwen drew back to look up at him, cradling his face with her slender hands. "Thank you…" she began, stroking his face. She wanted to continue, but she could only focus on breathing for fear of crying more; Arthur didn't need to see her like that.

Arthur looked from one eye to the other, seeing the ache clearly there. He spoke gently with a smile, "You look like you need some rescuing, Madam."

And so Arthur, Knight of Camelot and heir to the throne, gently captured the lips of Camelot's finest maiden.

Arthur Pendragon did indeed keep his promise to the Maid Guinevere, and a year later he made the same promise again, publically, for all to witness.

Until the end they stood together; bound by love, rooted in the strong loyalty and justice they ruled their kingdom with.

And they prospered…how they prospered!


End file.
